


His Butler, Lustful

by BitterWhore



Series: Black Butler: Those Things Implied [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterWhore/pseuds/BitterWhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is bed time at the Phantomhive home - but when it becomes necessary for Sebastian to bathe his young master, one thing leads to another.</p><p>Naturally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Butler, Lustful

**Author's Note:**

> The Prequel to this, 'His Butler, Deflowerer' can be found here:
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2216055

The room is pristine, as always. Nothing is out of place. Every decoration is flawlessly chosen to work without any clashing with the color scheme. A single small lamp on the table near the bed, primarily for reading purposes, even fits in - though it had to be altered by hand to do so. The only thing that breaks the perfection is motion, specifically the motion of the exquisite wooden door opening. A young man enters, looking around for a moment before stepping far enough in for his faithful butler to enter behind him. The tall, willowy butler shuts the door.

While the young man in his lovely finery moves like someone who just needs to lay down, the butler moves with a sort of smooth feline grace. There is no wasted motion. Every single gesture, even down to his eye movements, serves a purpose. He is checking the room, observing, seeing what might need to be done in a flash so fast one with untrained eyes might not notice.

"Sebastian, I am going to bed. It has been far too stressful of a day," the young man says, looking back at his butler. A portion of his dusty black hair are in front of his eye patch, adding coverage to something very important about his eye that he cannot often show the world.

"As you wish, young master," the butler says, approaching swiftly and kneeling behind him. "Arms up, please. We must get you prepared for bed and if you will not at least allow me to draw you a bath, then you must allow me to clean you at least somewhat."

"I would expect no less. I did not intend to go to bed with the day's filth still on my skin," the young master says derisively, keeping his eyes ahead. His slender arms rise as his butler requested.

Sebastian takes a moment to think before tugging his gloves off carefully and reaching over to set them aside near that wonderfully hand modified reading lamp. Long fingered, elegant hands move around his young master then, working at the buttons that need to be undone. Black fingernails that appear painted catch the light. One who observes closely might note however that these nails are not painted, but instead are black all on their own and the sheen that they possess comes from careful care and buffing as well as a delightful clear coat.

The garment is opened, the coat in his colors, and then drawn off and set aside on a chair. When the butler's lovely hands move around again, they pause at the top of the young master's chest. While the butler savors the feeling of his strong heart beating, the young master focuses on just how warm Sebastian's hands always seem to be. They're so warm, like much of his body, that they almost feel hot.

"Sebastian, you're lingering. Can you carry on please?" the young master asks quietly, feeling heat blooming on his cheeks. Blushing is not something a nobleman ought to do. It is highly inappropriate.

"My apologies, young master. I was just feeling your heart beat. It is so interesting… how it rose while my hands were in place, becoming much faster," the butler says, wearing only a small, sly smile. His own hair is immaculate to match but a much darker black - immaculate save for a few errant strands that hang between his eyes. Right now, in this moment, he allows them to show the true shifting red color that they ought to be and the pupil that is not unlike a feline slit.

"Sebastian, my heart rate is not your concern. Undress me!" the young master orders firmly, face reddening further.

"My apologies, my lord. Right away."

The shirt is removed with something like haste but lacking any sense of being in a rush. It's as if Sebastian merely moved quickly because he wanted to, not because of the orders. Nothing about the butler suggests any kind of a loss of control - save of course for the hungry expression just barely visible on his smooth, unmarked face.

For just a moment, the butler's warm hands pause as he runs them down the young master's sides. There is the slave cult brand, a raised scar from some time ago. He does not pause long enough for a reprimand, only long enough to lick his lips before moving on.

The rest of his young master's garments are removed with efficiency, down even to his socks and the small belts cinched above his calves put there to keep the socks in place. Ciel does not wait. Once his body is completely bare, he steps up to the bed to wait. Sebastian rises and vanishes through the door, returning only moments later with a small cart.

Upon this cart, towels, a basin of water, a pair of wash cloths and a brush for the young master's hair.

A towel is laid out on the bed and Ciel sits, silent, pensive.

His butler takes up a cloth, slowly dipping it in the water scented with oils from roses and from white sage, and other scents that are proper and while masculine somehow manage to be feminine as well.

"The water smells nice," the young master says, letting out a quiet sigh at the hot water on the cloth. "My word, that feels good."

"I'm sure it does, young master. Please, do try to relax. You have no need to keep your muscles tense. I am here, we are home, and you are safe without question."

"Of course I am safe. I am always safe when you are here," Ciel mutters, face reddening at the tone his butler used.

Sebastian, possessing of an unceasing amusement, says nothing to allow the tension to build.

It is everything he possesses not to lean down to lick his young master's soft, smooth skin. To run his long tongue over the branding scar, to add some more pale scars to his young master's back. A myriad of the nearly invisible lines can be seen there, the result of sharp nails doing what sharp nails do.

I want the pain, his young master told him. I want it as proof I lived a life worth living. Spare me no agony.

His butler's natural response was, well…

Sebastian moves on from washing his young master's back and the outsides of his thighs to his chest. He is face to face with his naked superior, focusing on what he is doing. Of course, the butler is completely aware of Ciel's eye on him.

"Oh dear, I nearly forgot," the butler murmurs, setting the cloth aside and reaching behind his young master's head to untie his eyepatch. He sets it aside, exposing the bright eye with the mark of the Faustian Contract upon it. Neither one looks away from the other, neither breaks the gaze into each other's eyes, until a moment after Sebastian brushes Ciel's hair aside.

"Sebastian, finish washing me. I am tired," Ciel nearly whispers, turning his head aside.

"Are you feeling feverish, my lord? Your face is quite red. I could perhaps prepare something for you, if nee-"

"Sebastian! Finish washing me!"

The demon smiles, showing his full hungry intent. The smile is a strange sort of expression, inhuman almost in its flawlessness and dark and disturbing insofar as it is a blatant show of intense desires. Those strange monstrous eyes rove downward, peering between the young master's legs. Ciel is already growing aroused, excited. Though he is not specifically well endowed, this much is apparent with even a cursory glance. Of course, Sebastian expected this. Make the young master blush, he knows, and a blush of a different kind will shortly follow after. Blood is blood, and it does not lie when it goes where the body wishes it to go.

Not wanting to keep the young master waiting any longer, Sebastian dampens the cloth in the hot water once more and then trails it up his thigh, making the young man gasp in shock. The cloth is gently pressed to the young master's nearly throbbing hardness, and slowly but surely the butler begins to work it up and down.

"S-Sebastian! M-Must you?" Ciel demands, glaring down at him with cheeks positively ablaze with embarrassment.

"Must I what, my lord? I am merely ensuring that you are clean - every single inch of you. Do you wish me to stop? I am no longer sure what you wish of me," Sebastian says, smirking evilly. "Give me an order, my master."

"W-What? Sebastian, you k-know-"

"I do not, my lord. Give me an order."

Ciel's face could not possibly get redder. His eyes could not get wider.

"S-Sebastian, p-please, don't do… don't do this!"

"Give me an order!" Sebastian says forcefully, raising his voice to match his master's.

There's a moment of hesitation and then the bashfulness seems to break in Ciel - at least, enough for him to do what he wishes in this moment. His small hands lace into Sebastian's hair and he grips tight.

"Suck it, god damn it! Just… just suck it, you monster!" he shouts.

"God damn it indeed," Sebastian murmurs, allowing his young lord to force his head down. For a moment he just remains there, lips pressed to the tip of his master's small cock. The heat from the demon is intense, almost but not quite matched by the heat of Ciel's arousal.

The scent of his young master's hardness makes him that much more desperate to do what he must. His long tongue works out between his lips and runs from base to tip, dragging a small whine like noise of desperation from the boy - a shockingly feminine noise, all things considered.

The taste of Ciel's cock is all Sebastian can think about. Again and again he licks from base to tip before pressing in lower and licking at the young master's sack. More quiet whines sound, but for the moment the butler ignores them because he is far too lost in his own pleasure. Beads of pre are weeping from the tip now, wetting Sebastian's cheek and lips. Many kisses are planted along Ciel's shaft, and the butler licks many more times until the hands in his hair are gripping so tight a human would no doubt be in enough pain to be irritated - but for this butler, the pain is just a source of added satisfaction.

"Sebastian! I-I said suck it!" the boy half shouts, voice now high pitches and girlish. He cannot keep his composure any longer, cannot pretend he isn't what he knows he really is.

"As you wish," the butler murmurs, taking the very tip into his mouth and circling it with his skillful tongue. The sensations prove to be nearly too much for Ciel, making him whimper and moan with the intensity of the pleasure. Tears, involuntary things brought on by over stimulation, run down his face. Satisfied by the rapid, sharp breaths the boy draws, Sebastian takes his shaft deeper and begins working with his hands. First, he takes a small moment to sufficiently dampen a middle finger. One then moves up to press underneath the boy's soft ass, and the other works gently and skillfully with his balls to add even more stimulation.

That dampened middle finger slides easily into Ciel. There is no control now, the boy's noises are shocked and loud. They are gasping, feminine moans of pleasure. The noises are like music, the taste of the pre is nectar of the gods. The pleasure, the raw energy of the boy, is like a drug. Sebastian does one of the things he does best - he satisfies his young master. He will admit this is different than any previous deal. This relationship, these relations, have much more meaning than any one before.

What that means, he is not sure of - nor is he able to spare much thought to it right now.

All he can think about is continuing to move up and down, swallowing his young lord's pre, and working the finger inside of him to press to the boy's prostate - and of course, the sounds that are now nearly screams of pleasure.

"S-Sebastian! I-I'm.. I can't… I can't last… I-I… Sebastian!" the boy cries, voice highest yet - without a hint of strain, at that.

As if to urge him onward, Sebastian picks up the pace until he can feel the boy's body tensing and his cock throbbing violently. He works his tongue then, even as he moves, with inhuman speed and skill. Hot spurts of cum erupt from his young master's tip. The demon allows it to fill his mouth and works the finger inside, massaging his prostate and keeping the boy orgasming until his body is trembling and every drop of cum has been milked free.

Then, and only then, does the butler pull back and swallow. With the taste still on his lips, he darts up and kisses his young master. For a long moment, they remain there, tongues pressing to each other, and then they part.

"Would you like your night clothes now, young master?" the butler asks calmly.

"N-No," Ceil replies instantly, voice still high. He doesn't meet the demon's eyes. "You know what I want."

"Naturally."

The butler rises, walking across the room to an armoire no one else is allowed to access. He opens it and draws from within a pair of soft panties and a girl's nightgown. When he returns, his young master is cleaning himself up with a dampened wash cloth. Sebastian allows him to finish before kneeling. Ciel steps into the panties, his slowly softening cock fitting just barely due to its small size. The nightgown is pulled on then, over his head, and he allows the butler to lift him and lay him gently in bed.

"Will that be all, my young master?"

Ciel stares at him, one eye dark and the other so very unnaturally bright. For a moment, silence.

"… stay with me, Sebastian," he orders, voice still holding its feminine tone. "Take off your clothes and stay with me, in bed."

"As you wish."

And so the butler strips down quickly, setting his clothes aside in a neat pile. The lights are turned off, save the bedside lamp. His body is lean, but well muscles. Pale skin is in numerous places marked with scars that are almost completely invisible but nonetheless are present if one were to get close and look closer. He works himself into the bed, underneath the comforter and blanket with his young lord. The small boy squirms, wiggling until he is against his butler.

"Hold me."

Sebastian does so, holding his young master gently. One slender fingered hand turn the lamp beside the bed off, casting them into darkness.

"… goodnight, Sebastian."

"Yes. Goodnight, my lord."

 


End file.
